


Sweet Pain

by Jenry_Morgan



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Beautiful mess of emotions, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Romantic Fluff, jenry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4003228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenry_Morgan/pseuds/Jenry_Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Love is a dangerous emotion with no guarantee of gratification or equal return, but it is kept alive by one great will; to conquer the heart of the one who sets it beating." ~Henry Morgan</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cuffs and Guns

**Author's Note:**

> God, I love Forever. 
> 
> This was one of my first ideas for a short fic and I just went with it! If I didn't ship Jenry with my whole heart, I seriously did love Iona & Henry together. She was gorgeous and such a tease. 
> 
> This story turned out way more emotional than I even intended. Kleenex may be desired. Thanks for reading and comments are love! If you can't get enough Forever, check out my other, longer fanfic. :) 
> 
> I'm so excited to read everyone else's ficathon stories too!
> 
> ~Lara

"This is seriously not the best idea, Henry," Jo said anxiously, glancing out the cab window as if the NYPD was already onto us.

"Calm down, Jo," I said, my hand finding her tight knuckle on her lap and giving it a quick squeeze. My sudden touch distracted her from watching the infinite line of cars flashing sharp lights at her face. Their bright reflections hardly made it seem like night in the city at all and one by one yellow cabs and black, shiny sedans sped by, in each the driver's hands permanently adhered to the horn.  
They were making her dizzy.

"I have no doubt, Detective, that Lieutenant Reece is right now scouring the streets with her team, Hanson at her head, searching us out and wasting her team's capability, to what, arrest you for going out without the precinct's permission. It's your night off. So long as murder stays at bay, we'll be fine."

Jo jabbed me in the shoulder lightly. "No I'm talking about this whole double date thing. I don't want it to go too fast again." After nearly a year, she continued to think twice about going out with anyone, much so, on so little thought.

"You're with me. What could possibly go wrong?" I tried to assure her. Reassuring was the last thing that was.

I watched Jo turn to the cab window and smile to herself, bringing a finger to her lips and biting it slowly with the edges of her teeth. She let her elbow rest on the frame and her slow, restrained breath drew small clouds on the pane. Outside, by the stoplight we paused at, a large group of merry making strangers sang and danced with excitement. From behind the glass, their silent performance was even more fascinating as they clapped their hands and laughed animatedly.

"So you promise not to go rogue without me?" she turned back to see my face when I replied. 

"You have my word, Detective," I said as seriously as I could. "I will not leave your side if you insist upon it." Jo liked the idea of having my control.

"What is this place anyway?" she asked. I had shed little light to the subject and it only added to her excited unease.

"Oh some old haunt, a popular place in the city. It's had many transformations over its life, but it appears to have settled on a high class stage bar. The Bacardi cocktail is said to be superb."

"You did your research," Jo sounded impressed.

I cut her thought of my worldliness short. "Not really. I read it on the back of a magazine Abe had lying around on his desk table."

"Still," Jo said. "I doubt there are many men as polished up on foreign cultures as you."

I smiled. "What can I say. I've had a lot of time on my hands."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The line of cabs piled their passengers out straight at the curb and rolled off before you slammed the door, but after they made sure you paid.

Jo wasn't quite sure why we hung back from the lit up building until her eyes landed on a familiar face at the busy entrance.

Iona Payne sauntered out of the gold leafed, front revolving door of the historic club proudly on her spiked red heels. Thankfully, she'd spared me by not wearing her knee high, lace up, black leather boots. It was wild of me enough to agree to attend a sophisticated party with an intelligent, self-possessed woman, but I wasn't adventurous enough to be prowled upon by her as a catty lady.

"I cannot believe I trusted a dominatrix with my date!" Jo said aloud, though it was only a hint as to what she was thinking inside.  
A penny for her thoughts would never be enough.

I grinned. "Trust me, Detective. Molly is a very kind woman outside her position. She leaves her professional assets behind."

"Oh I'm sure," Jo said, eyeing the beautiful blonde with a sour expression. She looked like she wanted to arrest her. But Iona probably knew her way out of cuffs better than any criminal. She was not to be stopped once she had her eye on something. So far, Jo was no more sold on Iona's off hours persona than she had been about her character the first time Iona strutted shamelessly into the precinct. "If he's anything like her, I think I'm hailing a cab to The 55 and asking the bartender to keep it coming until I forget any of this ever happened."

"He'll no doubt be a charming gentleman. Besides you can enchant anyone Detective, even if it is for one night." She sighed. "Don't worry, I could always save you," I added with a hint of charm and a witty curve of my mouth.

Jo's expression sank when she saw Iona clomp over to us, like she never believed until now that Ms. Payne would make an appearance. As if Iona was the kind of woman who ever missed a chance to meet people and slap them, if not with her whip, then with her sharp tongue. Surprisingly, Iona had tamed the rough freedom of her spirit with a simple white dress. Still, she stood out like the bride at a wedding, so everyone's attention couldn't help but be drawn to her.

"Henry," Iona leaned closer to my ear and teased a touch with her red coloured lips. "I'm so glad you made it," she purred. Her earrings dangled furiously as she spun around on the sidewalk with a girly laugh. In the gold lights, she looked like a movie star.

"Tom, don't be bashful," she called the very handsome gentleman who'd been until now overlooked by her zest. He looked no older that twenty five.

Jo widened her eyes at me. Not as wide as Tom widened his. Jo was probably one of the most fantastic people he'd ever seen.

"Beautiful," Iona took the words from Tom's mouth when she turned to Jo. "I'm so glad Henry brought you along. It's refreshing to meet outside the interrogation room."

"Yeah, or outside your red room office," Jo mumbled. Tom ruffled his messy blonde hair and stared at Jo with his big, green eyes. 

Iona took pride in Jo's remark. "I left my weapons behind. I hope you didn't bring your gun. Tom isn't much of a trouble seeker." Iona grinned at Jo widely. Jo cautiously smiled back, her hand holding her bag tighter.  
She'd definitely brought her gun.


	2. Kiss Me

Iona clearly lived for excitement. She had not stopped dancing to the music since we entered the packed room. Her hips swayed and she let her head fall back until her hair fell down her neck. Sadly, I was not much of an enthusiastic partner.

"You know I'm surprised," Jo said, leaning back on the bar next to me and eyeing Iona. "She definitely doesn't strike me as your type."

"And what do you think my type is, Detective?" I said with a smile on my lips. I for one, had no idea.

Jo faltered, but laughed as she thought. "I don't know. Someone who isn't entirely enamoured with their own authority. No, you've got too much of your own opinion."

"Lieutenant Reece might agree." I made Jo laugh again.

"Henry Morgan, you're far too remarkable for just anyone. There aren't a lot of people who'll recognise that. You need, someone loyal." Her voice had turned serious. I'd never heard her talk that way.

"Do you have someone in mind?" I questioned.

"I," Jo started, but dropped the conversation with a shake of her head. So far, she'd spent less that ten minutes engaging with a bowled Tom.  
But he was coming to fetch her.

Elbowing Jo, I urged her to go meet him. The poor guy proved to have very little faith. Jo looked over her shoulder once more before leaving me to the mercy of Iona.

For the first time in the light, I took a moment and admired her. Jo stood by the stairwell awkwardly, doubtful of herself. What a difference to the strong faced detective wielding a gun at a suspect twice her build. She wore a slim black dress that fell perfectly along her frame and the thin, crystal bracelet on her arm sparkled wildly. Quickly, her fingers touched the necklace around her neck before she grinned at Tom when he approached. She didn't have enough faith in tonight to leave her wedding ring behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The live music played on for hours, occasionally interrupted with Iona's unrestrained, loud laugh and the smashing of glass on the floor. Jo managed to command her rowdy date, Tom from the dance floor back onto the balcony bar. Tom was reluctant to leave the hot crowd of closely packed bodies, but Jo didn't mess around. She'd danced enough and dragged Tom after her. I wondered if she'd had to press her gun to his back.

Iona stood by me and ordered half a dozen drinks for us all.

"To tonight!" she clanked her glasses together and guzzled her whiskey. The bartender behind her was contemplating whether he needed to ask Tom for proof of age.  
Fortunately, he spared Jo the embarrassment.

"And to the luckiest gentlemen in the world!" Iona added with a playful wink at me. Tom was granted another cheer of banging glasses, this time with Jo, who's beautiful smile faded more and more with every kiss Iona planted on my lips.

 

In nearly three centuries, I had learned many things about love. That it consists not merely in physical affection, but in the passion it fires within a person to do good for another. It is the greatest thing we seek and we are drawn to it like months to a flame. Sometimes we are burned, but we take the risk anyway. For what if once we are to go unscathed?

Each time I chose love over my own fears, I conquered possibly, the most important challenges in my life. My first ultimate sacrifice, though for so long unknown to me had saved hundreds of lives upon a ship centred only to drop anchor after all aboard had died. Perhaps, I learned to think, my immortality was in itself the reward I received for my selfless act, so that I could remain on this earth with a gift no other but one possessed. I followed the need to become a doctor; to treat others of illnesses medicine or care would heal. Never did I find a case as un-curable as mine. The questions I had then remain much the same now.

In all my years however, there were two extraordinary, limitless loves that kept me alive enough to know I could still feel such an emotion at all. A woman, Abigail and a blue eyed boy (now a little older), Abraham. I felt shame for not sharing my secret and weakness in my soul when I imagined how I would fail to believe my own affliction had it been spoken from another's mouth. Abigail did what no one ever had.

She fell completely in love with me and never for a moment, despite everything she learned about me, did she so much as look back.

Even if my life never came to an end, I could know I shared an unconditional bond with the son we raised together and still the fast beating of my heart with the thought that I had once in my life truly been loved.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback: New York City-1946)

"I'm worried about Abraham," Abigail said, looking up into my eyes on our way out of the theatre. She squeezed my arm to make certain I understood her fretfullness for our son and held onto me firmly. The still wide open doors of the theatre behind us spilled music from the hall out into the broad, crowded street. I slowed my pace a little and looked back at her with helpless adoration.

"He's fine, Abigail, I assure you. The Royce's are good people. I would not leave him in the hands of anyone capable of any less than the best of care," I calmed her motherly nerves. "Let's enjoy tonight. It's been ages since we've spent such time together."

"Tell me if I'm wrong, but I believe this is the second time we have ventured out, just the two of us, into this grand city." Her heels beat in perfect rhythm on the stone steps.

"Then why not bask in it. I want to hold on to these memories forever." I said with a deep breath.

"Well you have a long while to keep them yet, so I'll try my best to make this night worth remembering." Abigail squeezed my arm again.

She already had.

All around us, people strayed leisurely along street windows or ladies danced in place on the curb, waiting for their lovers dallying in the doorsteps of newly built townhouses and shouting endless goodbyes to their friends. Others walked quite poorly, stumbling from the poker tables in basement clubs, where they lost their dignity, their little worth, and their judgement to money and alcohol. New York's vibrant, flourishing culture was endless. Unlike any other place, it never kept time.

A shoulder bumped Abigail's as we walked to the street corner.

"My apologies," the gentleman tipped his hat at her and his wife smiled kindly before they hurried on to the curb, enamoured in each other and clambered into a spacious car.

"I believe I have never seen so many people." Abigail watched in awe, feeling never more safe by my side. "Where is everyone going?"

"Everywhere," I shot a guess. "Speaking of going, how about finding our slow way back to the everything we cherish most?" I silently missed Abraham's cry.

We turned down the first narrow street and fell into a hushed sound, like in an instant we had escaped the city entirely.

"Alright, but first there's something I want you to do," Abigail looked at me, her lips parted slightly even after she spoke.

"What?" I asked her, afraid at once that I wouldn't be able to fullfill her request.

Abigail strung her fingers firmly around my own and fixed her perfect, green eyes on mine. "Kiss me."

My heart caught at her words and I paused, simply to take in the perfect sound of her gentle voice. Then slowly, I leaned towards her blush lips and closed my eyes when they met hers'. Abigail kissed me without fear or regret. For all that I was, all I had put her through, she never once failed to trust me with her whole heart. Her love was more than anything another person could ever give me and my eyes grew wet at the simple thought of how fate in life could bring such greatness together.  
"Do you think you might remember this bit?" she said quietly with a little smile when we at last drew back.

I held her beautiful, glowing face in my hand. "Always."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An arm linked around my elbow and sharp, loud music pierced my ears. In a blur, I could see the striking profile of a woman laughing and she ran a hand through her thick, brown hair carelessly when she leaned forward.

"Detective Martinez cleans up nice," Iona said, sneaking up on me. The last sensations of Abigail's touch, the smell of her new perfume, all fell away with this new, unfamiliar face. Iona grinned. "What's got you tangled up in thought?"

"N-nothing," I shook my head as I tried to relax in my straight chair. This was all wrong. Iona settled on the seat next to me. I was surprised she hadn't chosen to slink onto my lap.

"You're in love with her," Iona said, looking straight ahead to where my gaze was fixed. Tom seemed to draw Jo enough to keep her at the table with him. Iona twirled the few un-melted ice cubes in her whiskey glass. "Why haven't you told her?"

To my surprise, I neither chose to deny Iona's perception on Jo nor persuade her otherwise. It occurred to me in that moment that I wanted Tom to disappear entirely and stop amusing her.

"It's not the right thing to do," I said openly. Iona looked at me like I was mad.

"What did they put in your drink?" she giggled, swinging back in her chair. "You're the most forward man I've met. I hardly think you have a problem sweeping women off their feet." She reached for and touched my silk scarf where it met my neck. "You know Henry, you're a baffling man. You've got scars deeper than a lifetime can leave and I think you've seen too many things you'd rather forget, but you're brilliant. And a man as honest as you deserves a good woman." She retracted her hand back to her glass.

I was about to dismiss Iona's words as flattery, when suddenly, Jo rose from her table across the room like a shot. She grabbed her sweater and bag from beside her and abandoned a struck Tom.

"Uh, oh," Iona un-crossed her long, slender legs and rose from the velvet, ruby red cushion. "Tell me Tom didn't unleash himself too quickly. I warned him about Jo." She for-went her usual gait as she strode off the low balcony and towards Tom.

Jo avoided my gaze entirely as she pressed by amidst the happy couples and burst through the door. Failing to sit still, I bounced from my chair after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But Abigail is the most perfect character I've ever come across. What true love...


	3. Persuasion

"Jo?" I stepped outside and let the heavy door slam behind me. The side exit led to a quiet street and the tall lights cast uneven shadows across the pavement. Nervous I had already lost her, I scanned frantically around until I saw her narrow figure at the corner.

"Jo?" I said again, approaching her slowly. She didn't turn at first, so I came up and stood beside her.

"Henry," she managed to smile when she saw the concerned look on my face. Her eyes were wet, but she tried not to wipe them, hoping I wouldn't notice the tears. Silence hung between us until Jo's voice stirred me at last. "It was our wedding song," she mumbled.

"What?" I asked, not quite caught on to what she was saying to me. The wet rims of her eyelids flickered as she watched the cars again.

"Sean and I, our song. The one that was playing," she repeated.

The rawness this had opened in Jo brought her back, like me, to feel every touch of her husband, to see the ring he slid onto her thin finger, and to hear the melody of a song where each word seemed written for them. It was there, before her eyes, like she was living it once more.

"Sean promised me forever," she went on. "You know the day before our wedding, I was a wreck. Everyone kept telling me I was putting my life before a career." Jo nodded her head and rolled her eyes back. "That being a detective wasn't something you mixed with family. There was a moment when I asked myself, if maybe I was rushing into things. Then Sean sent me flowers to my room as a surprise. I never had that doubt again. You know all those moments you take for granted with a person. Those are the one's you realise you cherish the most." She traced her lips with her tongue. "Sometimes I just don't know if I'm strong enough to do this from the beginning."

"Jo, I'm sorry," I started, reaching to her. Tears welled up in my own eyes.

"No, Henry," Jo said quietly. "It was my call to come. I'll be fine. Go back and have a good time. Iona's gonna tromp out here and unleash her shackles on you if you don't."

I ignored her. "Jo, why did you come?" I placed a hand on her arm. The music had upset her, but it wasn't the real reason she wished she'd stayed home, watching TV until she fell asleep. Jo raised her wide eyes up at me slowly, indecisive on whether to look at me or not.

"Because," she hesitated, then firmly set her gaze on me. "I wanted to be with you."

I stood back from Jo for a second in complete wonder, my right hand slipping into my pant pocket. Surely it was all those shots of brandy with Thomas that made her so bold.

"Jo I assure you, I'm not the best companion," I said with a dismissive chuckle.

"Drinking partner, no," Jo agreed. She'd cleared the first hurdle. Whatever she said now was only to further her feelings. "But you're my partner on the job, my safe hold. I like to think of you as my friend, but you're also unpredictable and the most unexpected person I ever thought would crash into my messed up life."

"Did I really crash?" I asked her, bemused. Jo wasn't sure if I was being ironic or merely voicing my surprise.

"You're right. I can't say I know you. I have no idea why you're so reckless with your life, or why on earth you chose to be a grave digger before you became a leading M. E. in New York, or what makes you confront danger with excitement, but I feel like I know enough to see that you are fascinating, incredibly smart, and have too much life left inside you to spend alone. An antique shop, really?" she raised a brow. "I just think you should look at yourself and realise that the one thing you're missing, is the one thing you constantly push away."

Jo struck me right in the heart. Her words hit as strongly as the many bullets I'd taken in my life. Since Abigail, I had refused to think of love, but right now it was challenging me, desperate to break through.

"Tell me you want to leave," I said suddenly. After all those words it was not remotely the reply she expected.

"Henry what are you talking about?!" Jo exclaimed.

"You don't want to go back in there. Sip another hard drink next to Tom foolery. Tell me you don't." I urged.

"No," she agreed easily like I knew she would.

"Then I'll fetch my coat," I said excitedly. "It's stifling in there. I've found the air outside quite more refreshing."

"But Henry," Jo said as I hurried back to the door. Instead of answering, I merely waved at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Neither Iona or Tom were anywhere to be seen. Frankly, I couldn't say I spent much time looking for either of them. Laying a hand on my black coat, I grabbed it from the chair and threw it over my arm, when I noticed a white napkin tucked between the sleeves. Slowly, I drew it out and unfolded the crease. A simple 'Thank you' was scribbled in rouge and the corners of my mouth curved into a smile. Folding it back up, I left it on the table next to the empty whiskey glass.

Jo was enough trouble for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oh, Henry, " Jo said with a slightly relieved tone when I appeared. She hadn't moved. "You're here."

"Yes. I hope I am the reason you're still waiting," I said, tugging my scarf evenly around my neck. "Why?" I asked when I noted her guarded expression.

"This guy just bumped into me. Said he was a good friend of yours'."

"Well that's new," I said, stepping close to her. "Though New York does tend to bring old faces together."

Jo didn't seem to agree. "His face looked so familiar, like I'd seen him before. I told him you'd be out in just a minute, but he insisted on not waiting. He just hailed a cab at the corner less than a minute ago." Jo glanced over her shoulder at the stoplight as if he may have done a circle around the block and would pull up again. "I couldn't quite make out his features, but I know him. From the precinct?" she suggested. "Tell me, I hope you don't go around making friends with all our suspects?"

I grasped her implication. "Iona Payne was never capable of murder. I was doing you a favour by soliciting her assistance."

"I'm sure you were," Jo replied, stepping sideways alongside me. "Though how you ended up in her cuffs during the heart of an investigation, I still don't want to know.

 

I lost count of the number of blocks we walked, sometimes talking, sometimes hearing no more than the sound of our footsteps to the city rhythm. Silence offered much companionship alone, relaying also without words the true morals of a person. It granted opportunity to find faith, to diminish pain, and to remember distant memories.

Suddenly, Jo spoke. "Now that I think of it, that guy back by the bar looked a lot like the therapist Reece sent you to after one too many naked swims in the Hudson. The one at Bellevue hospital." Jo looked up at me. "It's like he dropped his British accent."

My hands went stiff at my side. "What did he say to you?"

Jo took a second to remember. "Really he was pretty brief, but what struck me most, was how he said he wished he could have everything you've ever possessed in your life." I stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, but Jo went on. "I asked him twice if he didn't want to wait, but he brushed me off; said he'd have plenty of time to see you again...and he gave me this. Said it's for you," Jo added after a short pause as if the thought of keeping it for herself and not saying anything had crossed her mind. She pulled a small envelope from her coat pocket, the one she'd kept her hand buried in since we'd left the club. Slowly she handed it to me, her fingers touching mine as I grasped it from her. From the moment the envelope landed in my palm, I knew there was no letter inside. No note penned on paper as a forewarning for something to come. Instead, the weight from whatever lay within sent a clearer message than any words could and I had the coldest sensation without opening it, that it held the keys to more than one fate. No longer just my own, but of the one person I now desperately cared for. Jo.

Her slightly worried face watched mine as I stared at the envelope blankly without uttering a word. She blinked, her beautiful eyes searching my serious, absent features. It took every will in my body to keep my hands from shaking.

"Henry, what's wrong?" she asked at last when our silence grew too long. "You seem worried."

I shook the package lightly in my hand like the contents were sheerly trivial. "It's nothing to bother us right now," I managed to say with a smile. No longer worried to tear it, I shoved it roughly in my breast pocket.

Jo was unconvinced, but let it go. Instead, she prodded me along the sidewalk until we aimlessly started walking again. For the first time in many years, I felt frightened and I bravely did something I hadn't done since my Abigail left me for the sparing of both our broken hearts. Blindly, I reached for Jo's hand without looking down, until her fingers softly tangled with mine.

Iona was right. I did love Jo. More than she or Abraham could imagine. I was enamoured by her confidence, her trusting heart, and her every vulnerable flaw, but in loving her so deeply, I also knew I could never live a day on this Earth knowing my secret had destroyed her. Tonight, I let myself memorise every perfect, warm groove of her hand because though it was scarcely the first, it was also the last time I'd ever hold it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Henry and Jo, a perfectly impossible love. ❤ Thanks to all for reading and for this awesome ficathon!
> 
> ~Lara


End file.
